The One You Want

by Showalter, Gena

  A girl who looked to be in her midtwenties stumbled over to their group. The scent of strawberry liquor wafted from her. She cupped Beck’s cheeks as she swayed on her feet and said, “I’m Charlene Burns. Tell me you’re new to town and that you’re here to stay and I’ll make you the happiest man in the world.”

  “I am new to town and I’m here to stay,” he said, all kinds of seduction in his voice.

  “He lives with me and Jase,” West said, wrapping his arm around his friend.

  The girl had eyes only for Beck. “Good, because you are so freaking hot, I want to lick you up like one of those ice-cream cones they’re handing out.”

  “I might just let you, darlin’.” A smile designed to make angels weep spread across his face. “Although, I have to admit I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  “And your voice! It’s as sugarcoated as the rest of you.” She played with the lobes of his ears. “Do you want to get married and have a million babies with me? Because my answer is yes.”

  While Dane would have cringed in horror, Beck took her hands and kissed her knuckles. “Why don’t we practice making babies?”

  “Done! And there’s no better time to start.” The two ambled away.

  “He’ll have ten other pretend baby mommas by the end of the week,” Jase said drily, but the affection was clear in his tone. “Even though I told him not to shit where he eats.”

  “Poetic,” Dane said.

  Jase shrugged. “I’m a romantic at heart.”

  He was so deadpan, Dane laughed out loud.

  A little boy about Norrie’s age walked up to the booth, a couple of dollars peeking out of his grip. But rather than approach the counter to request a cone, he stopped to wipe his nose with his free hand and peer up at Jase. “You’re a giant. Want to hear a joke?”

  Jase looked around for help, found none, then shrugged again. “Uh, sure?”

  “What did the fan say to the blow-dryer?”

  “What?”

  “Why don’t we blow each other.”

  Dane nearly choked on his own tongue.

  Jase covered his mouth with a tattooed hand. “Who told you that joke, kid?”

  “No one. Heard my dad tell it to my uncle.”

  “Johnny!” a female voice called. “Get over here. Now!”

  The kid looked over his shoulder, shouting, “But mahhhm! I ain’t got no cone yet.”

  Her gaze skittered over Jase. “Now!”

  Johnny sighed. “Gotta go.” Off he went.

  Dane followed him with his gaze—and that’s when he spotted Kenna. He nearly went down as if he’d been tranqed. Magnificent. Her hair flowed around her shoulders in crimson waves. She wore a T-shirt and a miniskirt. Her legs seemed to stretch for miles, ending in scuffed cowgirl boots.

  Am I drooling? I think I’m drooling.

  Jessie Kay was with her, Norrie between them. Kenna bent down, speaking to her daughter at eye level, before the little girl ran off to play with her friends.

  West was speaking, but Dane had already tuned him out. He walked over to Kenna, as if in a trance.

  “You made it,” he said, wanting to touch her. Have to touch her.

  Jessie Kay spotted the guys he’d been standing with and called, “Oh, sweet! New man meat’s made it to town, y’all. Let’s gobble.” She strutted over to introduce herself.

  “I made it,” Kenna confirmed, glancing down at her feet.

  Shy now? “Dance with me,” he said.

  She looked up, startled, her eyes going wide. “I don’t dance.”

  Because of her past? He dared anyone to say an unkind word about her. There would be hell to pay. “Correction, honey. You didn’t used to dance. You do now.” He led her to the dance floor before she could protest and joined the other two-steppers. He hadn’t done this in a long time, but quickly picked up the rhythm and guided Kenna through the steps, one hand twined with hers, one on her lower back.

  He stealthily lifted the hem of her shirt until he was able to work his fingers underneath the material, to her skin. She gasped at the moment of contact, and he moaned. She was as soft as silk, and warm, so wonderfully warm.

  People stared at them. Some smiled while they did it. Some gaped with shock. He didn’t care, but knew Kenna might—which was the only reason he never urged her flush against him.

  Instead, he lowered his head and whispered, “Did you think about my offer?”

  “That, and nothing else.”

  Calm. Steady. “And?”

  Her free arm slid up the ridges of his spine, stopping at his nape. She played with the ends of his hair, saying, “And...I want to give this thing a try, see where it takes us.”

  Joy. Arousal. So much arousal. Possessiveness. Each flooded him. Kenna was now his. Her smile, her laugh—his. Her body—his and his alone. She’d said so.

  The blood in his veins instantly caught fire.

  “We’ll keep it secret at first, just like you suggested,” she continued, “and you have to stay away from Norrie. I won’t have her growing attached to you.”

  He heard the implication of her words. Only to lose you later. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, when it was exactly what he wanted—what was best.

  “And you can’t see other women,” she added. “I mean it. That’s a hard limit.”

  Now that only added fuel to the flames of his desire. “I won’t. You have my word. And you will not see other men. Hell, I don’t think I want you talking to one.”

  She rose on her tiptoes, whispering, “Is it wrong how badly your words are turning me on?”

  His hands squeezed on her. “I have to kiss you. Right now.”

  She licked her lips. “Okay, but where should we go? I can’t stray too far from Norrie.”

  He heard the edge of need in her tone, and went painfully hard. “I know just the place.”

  With the last of his control quickly fraying, he dragged her away from the dance floor, behind the nearest booth, right in front of Rhinestone Cowgirl, where light from the streetlamps didn’t quite shine. They were suddenly surrounded by shadows.

  He turned and pushed Kenna against the brick wall, careful to cushion her head with the back of his hand, and then he basically dived on her. As his mouth pressed against hers and she gasped, the sky exploded with colorful lights, fireworks taking flight. He seized on her openness with a vengeance, thrusting his tongue past her teeth. Damn! Her taste was so sweet he knew no dessert would ever be able to compare.

  At first, she passively accepted his attention, as if she feared making a mistake. But then, oh, then, she relaxed and began to participate, rolling her tongue against his, sucking on him, nibbling on his lower lip. He couldn’t get enough of her, was sinking into some kind of passionate insanity, spiraling, loving every second.

  Her hands made their way through his hair, over the wide expanse of his shoulders, and her nails dug into his back, applying pressure, drawing him closer...closer...He died a thousand deaths, desire rising up and slaying him again and again as he pressed his erection between her legs and ground against her.

  Had anyone ever been this turned on?

  He deepened the kiss, losing all finesse, operating solely on instinct. “I want you. Want you so bad.”

  “How bad?” She undulated her hips, causing him to press against her with more force.

  The exquisite friction nearly caused his eyes to roll back in his head. Kissing her like this, touching her, was better than being naked with any other woman. “Honey, you say the word and I will drop to my knees right now and show you how bad.”

  A shiver stole through her. One he recognized.

  She liked the idea.

  But he didn’t do it, because she didn’t say the word, and he didn’t want to m
ove too swiftly with her and risk scaring her away. Didn’t want anyone stumbling upon them. Must slow down, or I’ll forget my good intentions. He gentled the kiss in an effort to cool the fire still raging in his veins. Didn’t help.

  His hand found her breast. She was plump there, soft and real, her nipple hard for him.

  “Dane, I...that...”

  He pinched lightly, and she moaned. “More?” he asked.

  She nodded wildly.

  He gave another pinch, harder this time. “I’ll give you more...as much as you can take.”

  “Dane,” she gasped again.

  “Did you wear a skirt just to torment me? I bet you did. Freckles has a naughty side, doesn’t she?”

  Her only response was a groan. She was past the point of sanity, too, and had reached that moment when there could be no turning back, when nothing mattered but reaching completion. She clutched at his shoulders, desperate. “Don’t stop.”

  The possessiveness expanded, taking up more prime real estate in his chest. “Nothing will stop me now.” He dived back in for another kiss, playing with her tongue, while running one hand up her bare thigh. Goose bumps broke out over her skin.

  When he reached the bottom edge of her skirt, he kicked her legs apart. She gasped, and he swallowed the sound, loving it, wanting more of even that. He traced the edge of her panties. Tremor after tremor rocked her, coming in long, sweeping waves.

  “You wet for me, honey?”

  Again, she gave him only a gasp. Another he swallowed with his mouth. He cupped between her legs and fed her a gasp of his own. She wasn’t wet, she was soaked. And he’d done this to her. Him.

  He rubbed against her, hard, harder, and she went rigid and soft at the same time, one of her arms locking around his neck in a near choke hold, the other hand digging into his ass.

  “Good?”

  “Dane...Dane...” She started moving, arching into his hand.

  Most. Erotic. Thing. Ever.

  Sweat trickled down his temples. He shoved her panties out of the way, and palmed her.

  “Yes...yes...please...Dane!”

  He pressed his mouth against hers once more as he thrust a finger deep. She was hot and tight, as if she’d been made just for him, and his erection throbbed, jealous of his fingers, wanting to be where they were. In the distance he thought he heard voices. But like Kenna, he had reached a point of no return and fed her another finger. They were hidden by shadows. As long as they stayed quiet from now on, no one would ever know what was happening back here.

  “Not another sound, honey. Okay? All right?”

  “Yes, yes,” she said more loudly than she’d probably intended, and he covered her mouth with his free hand. All the while he continued to work her, thrusting his fingers, the palm of his hand pressing where she ached the most. Her hips moved with his motions, rocking, rocking, seeking more, seeking something deeper. He gave it to her, sliding in another finger. Just like that, she shattered, coming apart in his arms.

  He released her mouth and yanked her against him, pressing her face in the hollow of his neck. She bit the cord running to his shoulder and the pleasure-pain of it almost sent him over the edge.

  He was ripping at the waist of his pants when he heard someone call, “Who’s back there?”

  Kenna went rigid again, and this time it wasn’t because of the pleasure.

  Well, well. He had more restraint than he’d realized. For her—for what was best for her. He hurriedly straightened her clothing, then his own, and whispered, “Stay here and rejoin the festivities from the other side.”

  Though he was trembling, he stepped into the light. “Can’t a guy take a piss in private?”

  CHAPTER NINE

  KENNA’S MIND PACKED up and moved into the clouds, and she just sort of floated through the next few days, even though she hadn’t gotten to see Dane again. He was back in the city, working, and hadn’t visited his new ranch. Which was good. She had Norrie and work. More work than ever, since she was picking up every extra shift she could, now that she didn’t have school. But every night he called her, checking on her, thrilling her.

  I want you back in my arms, he’d say.

  She wanted that, too. Wanted another earth-shattering kiss. His beautiful taste, all male. The feel of his skin against hers, white hot. The prickle of his five o’clock shadow. The hardness of his muscle. The pleasure of his erection rubbing against her, stoking her need for him higher and higher. The thickness of his fingers, impaling her. She shivered, even now.

  She had to see him again. Like, yesterday. He’d awoken a storm of yearning inside her, and there was no getting rid of it. So, she did something she’d never done before. She arranged for someone else to take her shift at work and for Norrie to stay the night at a friend’s house after school, and then borrowed Brook Lynn’s car. The old clunker barely made it to the offices of MG&E.

  It was as Kenna stood in the back of a crowded elevator, riding up to the top floor of the chrome-and-glass building, that she began to doubt the wisdom of her impulsive act. Dane was a busy man. He could be in meetings, or even out of town. And what if she embarrassed him? She wore her usual T-shirt and jeans while other females nearby wore dresses and high heels.

  Chin up. Shoulders back. Smile.

  Maybe she should step to the side and call him before she actually went knocking on his office door.

  Ding.

  The elevator doors opened up. Everyone flooded into the lobby, and she realized there was nowhere to move aside. Though spacious, every inch led to the reception area, where two women manned the counter. Both were pretty and young and as well dressed as everyone else.

  Three of her elevator mates bypassed the counter without a word, two going through the door on the right and one going through the door on the left. Must work here. Another elevator mate, a female, stopped at the counter.

  “I’m here to see Dane,” she said, and Kenna frowned.

  Know that voice. But from where...where? The answer clicked into place. Jada from the engagement party.

  Kenna stiffened, her heart dropping into her stomach. At least the receptionist didn’t immediately take the girl back.

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No,” Jada huffed. “Just tell Dane I’m here and that I’d like to speak with him. It’s important. A matter of life and death.”

  The receptionist picked up the phone, muttered a few words. So. Dane was in the building. Still. I should leave. I’m acting just like his other women, dropping by without an appointment. That had to be annoying to him.

  “I’m sorry,” the receptionist said, returning the phone to its receiver. “But he’s in a meeting.”

  “Did you tell him who I am? Jada Hamilton. And that it’s an emergency.”

  “I told him.”

  Jada sucked in a breath. “Bastard,” she muttered. She spun on her heel and almost knocked into Kenna. Her eyes widened. “You!”

  “Me,” she managed. She took a step back. Coming here had been a mistake. A huge mistake. He was in a meeting, and she had no right to disturb him.

  “You might as well go,” Jada said, tone clipped. “He’s in a meeting.”

  “I heard.”

  Jada linked their arms and guided Kenna back to the elevators. “You’re his sister, right?”

  “Stepsister.”

  “But you still know him well.”

  Did anyone ever really know a man like Dane? “I suppose.”

  “Tell me. How many others have you seen him with? I try and try to get him to open up, to commit, but he never will. He’s like an island, you know, and only a few people are allowed to visit...before being shipped off. I know I can make him happy if only he’ll give me a chance.”

  The words were flying at Kenna without p
ause, and she could barely keep up.

  “He resists anything long-term,” Jada said. “Has he ever told you why?”

  Ding. The elevator doors opened up and an older African-Amarican man stepped out. He nodded at them and moved on, and Jada and Kenna took his place inside the box.

  “Well,” Jada prompted.

  “No,” she replied honestly. But she could guess. His dad.

  “He told me we were done,” the woman said with a sigh. “Why would he do that unless he’s scared of what he feels for me?”

  Because of what he feels for me. Warmth poured through Kenna. He’d kept his word. Wasn’t seeing other women.

  “I must have gotten too close,” Jada said.

  “You mentioned an emergency,” Kenna said, changing the subject. “A matter of life and death.”

  The girl sighed. “The life and death of our relationship.”

  “Miss Starr!” a harried voice called. The elevator doors were in the process of closing. An arm shot through the center, stopping them. The frowning receptionist stepped halfway inside. “Mr. Michaelson will see you.”

  She blinked, surprised. “But his meeting...”

  “He’ll see you.”

  Jada stiffened.

  How had Dane even known Kenna was here?

  She pulled from his ex, hating that the girl was hurt by his rejection but also happy for herself—was that wrong?—and followed after the receptionist. Details of the office she’d missed because of her nervousness registered. The gleam of the hardwood floors and the plushness of the rugs. The paintings on the walls were all florals, and she wondered who had chosen them. Not Dane, surely. The counter was white marble veined with rose.

  The door on the right opened into an active hallway with multiple office doors on one side and cubicles on the other. Many eyes watched her curiously as she passed, and she curbed the urge to smooth her hands over her hair and clothing.

  The receptionist opened the French doors at the far end, and several males stomped out. She motioned for Kenna to enter. Then those doors were closed, and Kenna was alone with Dane.

  He strode toward her, and wow, he looked gorgeous. Like a model himself, set apart from the rest of the world, utterly unattainable.